


The Roads Not Followed

by SylvieW



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Claiming, Future Fic, Intercrural Sex, Kid Fic, M/M, Magic Stiles, POV Scott, Underage - Freeform, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6722197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW/pseuds/SylvieW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek.</p>
<p>Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Majority of the fic is in Scott’s POV.  
> Canon divergent post S2
> 
> Dubcon: Derek isn’t so great at explaining what he does before he does it. Stiles doesn’t really know what Derek is going to do, so he resists a bit, but ultimately, he is very much up for what Derek is dishing out.
> 
> This fic was inspired by a fan fic I read in what feels like my early days of reading fanfiction, before I started writing. It was this wonderful piece where Stiles offered to be part of the pack and Derek “claimed him” over the arm of a sofa. It was awesome and wonderful and I CAN'T FIND IT. If anyone comes across it, read it for one because it was great, and then tell me what it was so I can read it again.
> 
> ETA: SOMEONE FOUND IT!!!!! Some magically person managed to find the fic I was talking about with my super vague description and here it is! It is really awesome and I highly recommend it.  
> [(Rode Hard) Put Away Wet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2118756) by [Calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18/pseuds/calrissian18)

Stiles slammed the door of the jeep and stalked into the Hale house. He waited in the foyer for a minute, but Derek didn’t appear, so he kicked a banister and called out, “Hey, are you even in here?”

“Didn’t you tell me this place isn’t fit for people to be hanging around?” Derek leaned against the door jamb behind Stiles, covered in dust and grime. Stiles didn't know when Derek had become the person he went to when he was upset and feeling alone. Wasn’t positive about when they’d gone from growled threats and murder accusations to trust and expectations of comfort. 

Perhaps it was all the times Derek had come when Stiles had needed him. Maybe it was as simple as two hours in a pool, unable to do anything but depend on each other and learn what went on under the surface. It could have been during the hours spent up in Stiles’ room, trying to keep Derek hidden while they worked to solve a puzzle. 

Or maybe it was the moments of combined helplessness on the floor of a police station, their equal determination to _get up_ and help the people they cared about. Or the shared grief of losing their loved ones, and waiting for the rest of the world to abandon them too. 

Did Derek look to him for support too? After all, he was the one Derek went to when he was injured and nearly dying. If Derek trusted Stiles to help him then, why wouldn’t Stiles trust Derek with his emotional upheaval?

Stiles turned his attention back to the present moment, and Derek’s comment. “Yeah, well, that never stopped you before,” Stiles grumbled. “What are you doing?”

Derek quirked an eyebrow, then walked out the door. Stiles followed him around the back, and was surprised to see an industrial dumpster. Derek went over to a pile of charred wood and drywall and started flinging pieces into the box. Stiles listened to them clang against the sides and thump onto whatever had already been added.

“Are you tearing it down?” Stiles asked.

“Not exactly. You have to do a lot of demo before you rebuild something like this.” Derek glared at him when Stiles snorted.

“You sound like a motivational poster.” Stiles put his hands under his chin like paws and widened his eyes, “Hang in there, dude.”

“You're more of a fox than a kitten.” Derek threw the last of the pile in and brushed off his hands. “What are you doing here, Stiles?”

Stiles scuffed his shoe into the dirt. He hadn’t really thought about where he was going, he’d just taken off. “Scott left.”

Derek stilled. “What do you mean?”

“Argent decided that he has nothing more to give to Beacon Hills. Makes sense, I guess, when you consider how many of his family members have died here.” Stiles looked back at the house, then shook the memory of Kate away. “Scott went with them. To be with Allison, I guess.”

“What about his mother?” 

“She’s gone, too,” Stiles confirmed.

Derek nodded, looking toward the trees. “What about you?”

“Even if I could convince my Dad to leave, Beacon Hills is my home. I’m not abandoning it. This is where I belong--” Stiles stopped, and Derek looked over at him. “Except that I don’t. Scott is gone, and now I have no idea how to fit in with these people. I need to keep them safe, but I don’t know how.”

“You can belong to the pack.”

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t want the bite. Deaton thinks I have a spark, but he won’t tell me anything more.”

Derek snorted. “Deaton gets off on being cryptic. You’re smart. You were the one to realize Scott was a werewolf, right? You can figure it out without him. And you don't have to take the bite to be part of the pack.”

Stiles smirked and flushed at the unexpected praise. He hadn’t come here with the conscious intention of joining Derek’s pack, but now that it was on the table, he wanted it more than anything. Pack sounded like family, security and strength all rolled into one. Something to replace the gaping hole left by his best friend. “How?”

Derek circled him, like a predator cornering its prey. He came to a stop behind Stiles. “I can make you mine.”

Stiles shivered. He could feel the heat of Derek just inches away from him, and the ghost of breath against his neck. “Yours? You mean, yours like…” He couldn’t bring himself to voice what he hoped Derek meant. He'd wanted Derek since he first saw him in the woods, and with all the time they’d spent together, time learning each other, his attraction had grown tenfold. He didn’t just want Derek’s body, he wanted more. But right now, he didn’t want to project his own desires onto whatever Derek was offering.

Derek curled a hand over Stiles’ hip and brushed his mouth against the side of his neck. “Mine. My partner, my lover, my mate.”

Stiles leaned back into Derek’s firm stance then stepped away from him. This wasn’t a decision to be made lightly, and he wanted to think about it with his head, not his dick. He let the words roll around his head, envisioned what they could mean, the effect they could have on his life, good and bad. “Partner?”

“Mate.”

Stile turned and wrapped his arms around Derek, exploring how they fit together. Derek let Stiles move him how he wanted, watching his face with patient intensity. Stiles hesitantly brushed their mouths together. When Derek didn’t push him away, he did it again, firmer. “I want that. I want to belong to you, and for you to belong to me.”

Derek’s eyes flashed red. “You’re sure?”

Stiles took a deep breath. “I’m sure.”

Between one breath and the next Stiles found himself upside down. It took him a moment to process that he'd been slung over Derek’s shoulder and was being whisked into the house. “Dude, what the hell? You are not a caveman!”

Derek growled in response, not hesitating as he moved through the dark rooms Stiles had never been in before.

Stiles tried to push himself up, but the only thing he could get purchase on was Derek’s butt, and he was too embarrassed to use that as a handhold. “Seriously, Derek, I already agreed to join the pack. I have legs, you could just tell me where we’re going and I’d walk there. What are we even doing?”

“Gonna claim you,” Derek rumbled.

“What?” Stiles started struggling anew. “What does that mean? Derek, put me down.”

He thought Derek was obliging when he pulled Stiles up and dropped him, but when he landed on a bed, Stiles figured they'd reached their destination. Derek crawled onto the bed over Stiles’ body, with a predatory gleam in his eye.

“Derek, words. What the heck is claiming?” Stiles demanded.

Derek braced himself on his elbows and leaned down to rub his nose along Stiles’ jaw. “Make you smell like me, so everyone knows who you belong with.” He slid his cheek down the column of Stiles’ throat, and the scrape of his stubble elicited a small moan from Stiles.

“Is it fun?” Stiles asked. It was fun so far. Very fun.

“Mmhmm.” Derek replaced his nose with his mouth and sucked. “Okay?”

“Oh, fuck, okay.” Stiles wiggled beneath him, getting harder with each pull of Derek’s mouth on his throat. 

Derek pushed up to admire his handy work, then started dispensing with their clothes. Stiles tried to help, but he mostly just got in the way until Derek swatted his hands away and finished on his own.

Stiles was too distracted by his own vulnerability to really appreciate having Derek naked in front of him. He flushed in embarrassment, heat creeping over his chest as Derek looked down at his naked body. “I know I’m kinda skinny, but--”

“Perfect.” Derek traced the freckles on his stomach reverently. Stiles didn’t believe him, but if Derek wasn’t backing out, he was happy to let it go for now. 

Derek followed his fingers with his mouth, leaving burning touches, wet kisses, and soft, stubbled nuzzles all over his body, seeking ways to make him shiver and moan. It left Stiles feeling a strange combination of loose-limbed and taut with anticipation.

He tensed when Derek suddenly flipped him over and pulled him up on to his hands and knees and panicked a bit at the snick of bottle opening. “Derek." 

“Shh.” Derek rubbed his hands down Stiles’ legs and nuzzled his back in reassurance. “I won’t hurt you. Can you keep your thighs tight for me?”

Stiles nodded, moving his knees together and shifting his weight to balance. He let his head hang down, panting as Derek mouthed along his spine. He felt the hot brand of Derek’s cock push between his legs and retreat again. He tried to push back encouragingly, but he nearly fell over.

Derek held him in place by his hips and started thrusting rhythmically into the tight space. Occasionally, he would brush the underside of Stiles’ balls, sending sparks of pleasure through him. 

“More,” Stiles moaned, digging his fingers into the sheet. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ waist, locking him against his chest. He pressed searing kisses against the nape of his neck. The fingers of Derek’s other hand kneaded into his thigh, relaxing the tense muscle before wrapping around Stiles’ aching erection.

He jerked Stiles off gently, hand still slick from coating his own cock. His hand moved in counterpoint to the thrust of his hips, and Stiles felt completely surrounded by the feel of him. 

Stile could feel his orgasm coiling like a spring, waiting, but he couldn’t make it release. “Derek, I need to--, please--”

Derek murmured reassurance against his skin, readjusting to put his mouth on the side of Stiles’ throat. After one light, chaste kiss, he sucked hard, and Stiles moaned as his he reached the electric bliss of orgasm, come pulsing over Derek’s hand as he milked him through it.

Stiles felt hazy and breathless when he finished, and would have collapsed on the bed if Derek’s arm wasn’t holding him close. He drifted in the bubble of pleasure, listening to Derek breathing hard as the rhythm of his hips stuttered.

Derek lowered him to the bed gently, and Stiles snuffled into the sheet. He jolted in surprise when wet heat splattered onto his lower back, then relaxed as Derek moaned above him. 

When he finished coming, Derek laid down along Stiles’ side, fingers sliding through his come and rubbing it into Stiles’ skin.

Stiles thought maybe he should think that was gross, but he was too relaxed and comfortable to care. Derek must like it, so what did it matter? He wiggled over to kiss Derek, sloppy enough to only catch the corner of his mouth. “Yours now?”

“Mine,” Derek agreed. Stiles smiled and let himself drift off.

***

Stiles startled awake, unaccustomed to the presence of someone next to him and the weight of an arm around his waist. He sat up carefully, turning so he could see Derek.

Derek was asleep on his side, face relaxed. Stiles took in the smooth expanse of chest and the sheet bunched loosely around his hips. He was used to Derek being tensed, always ready to defend himself at a moments notice, not sleep soft and vulnerable.

He appreciated that Derek was willing to trust him enough to be this relaxed with Stiles in his space. It made the sticky feeling of the skin on his back worth it.

Stiles took stock of the marks on his body, the beard burn and the hickeys blooming on his pale skin. His first thought was _not a virgin anymore_ , followed closely by _gotta tell Scott_. He tried not to jostle the mattress as he sat on the side of the bed. He wasn’t sure where his pants had ended up, but he was pretty sure his phone would still be in his pocket.

Reality came crashing back before he could even get up to look. He couldn’t tell Scott. His best friend was gone. Scott was miles away already, leaving Beacon Hills--and Stiles--in the dust. 

Stiles sat feeling cold and empty. His heart started to pound. Scott had left. Stiles needed him and he wasn’t there. Again. He wouldn’t come riding to the rescue at the last minute. Scott had abandoned him and he was never coming back.

“Stiles?”

Stiles jumped at the soft sound. He turned around to face Derek. He was wide awake but still looked warm and comfortable. He frowned up at Stiles, but it looked more concerned and less like he was about to cause him bodily harm, like when they had first met. He reached across the bed to take Stiles’ hand.

“He’s gone,” Stiles rasped.

“I know,” Derek said. He tugged gently and Stiles let himself be pulled over into Derek’s arms, burrowing into the safety of Derek’s embrace.

Today he would let himself be sad. He would mourn the absence of the person he'd cared for like a brother.

Tomorrow, he’d get angry. Derek would help him, and they’d harden that anger and wield their fury like a weapon, striking down any threat that crossed their path.


	2. Chapter 2

_12 Years Later_

Scott sat at the wobbly kitchen table, holding Kira’s hands in his and watching the clock. Levi and Joan were supposed to be back half an hour ago, and they had yet to appear.

The only thing that kept him from assuming the worst was his alpha. George was sitting calmly in his chair by the fire, crossword in hand. His mate Betty was beside him, knitting up a storm. Scott knew that if Joan and Levi were dead, George would feel it, like he had with Maria.

There were so many other potentials to worry about. Sending Levi to meet with the Northern alliance of packs made sense. George was too old to be traveling great distances, and he'd already spoken with all of the alphas by phone. This meeting should have been confirmation of support, but what if the packs had taken offence, and hurt the betas to show their displeasure?

If it wasn’t the pack alliance delaying them, they could’ve been ambushed on their way home. Their enemy grew stronger by the day. They'd claimed they were giving George’s pack time to make a decision, but Scott knew if they caught wind that they were seeking help from other packs, they wouldn’t hesitate to send a message. They'd done so before.

Anger roiled through Scott. Despite four years of traveling with Allison and her father, he still didn’t understand how hunters worked. The Ramsey pack was too strong, too power hungry. Hunters should have come to put them in their place years ago but none had appeared.

Probably too busy terrorizing newly-turned high school students.

Scott should know better than to believe that hunters would actually hunt dangerous werewolves. After all, that was why he'd left Allison behind. He couldn’t live in their morally gray world, pretending they were the righteous party and all werewolves deserved to be put to death for stepping one toe out of line, while he himself was evidence to the contrary. 

Kira squeezed Scott’s hand and he realized his claws had released. He gave her an apologetic smile. Even after three years in the O’Hurley pack, his time as an omega still bled through, shaking his control.

Kira gave his hand a reassuring pat. His little fire cracker would never judge.

Lizzy came downstairs, padding softly and perching on a step. Scott couldn’t help but think she looked so young, with her sunny blond ponytail and cutoffs. There was only eight years between them, but 20 years old felt so long ago.

Simon paced a circuit from the kitchen to the living room and back again. Impatience coloured his every movement. He'd only been with the pack a year, but he and Levi were thick as thieves. “They should be here by now.” 

“Stomping around won’t get them here any faster,” George said calmly. He tapped his pen against his crossword. “Six letter word for ‘Young and inexperienced’.”

“Callow,” Betty offered.

George nodded, writing it in as the pack perked up at the sound of Joan’s old pickup truck lumbering up the drive.

Simon opened the front door to meet them but was pushed out of the way by Joan stomping inside. “They backed out,” she spat.

Levi followed behind her, more sedately, but tense with disappointment.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked. He wasn’t expecting the angry look Joan gave him.

“The Hale Pack,” Joan hissed. “Maybe you could tell us why?”

Scott blinked in surprise, moving closer to Kira for support.

“Joan, maybe you could tell us what happened before you start throwing stones.” George’s tone was mild but no less commanding.

Joan growled, and Levi was the one to explain. “Everything was going as expected. All the packs seemed to be on board with helping us, just like they said. They asked to see Joan’s arm, to find out just how strong the Ramsey alpha is by how well it’s healed.”

Joan had needed stitches after their last altercation with the enemy pack. Scott’s work as a vet assistant had made him most qualified to do them, but he wasn’t sure what that had to do with the Northern alliance.

“As soon as she started taking the bandage off, Hale started sniffing. Instead of asking about the wound, he wanted to know which pack member had done the first aid.” Levi continued, ignoring Joan when she glared at Scott again. “When we told him it was Scott McCall, his mate flipped out.”

Scott looked between the members of his pack, confused. “I’ve never even met his mate.”

“You must have met them somewhere, Scott, they pulled out because of you,” Joan said, stalking toward him.

“Joan,” George admonished. “Levi, what did the other packs say?”

“Hale’s mate is very well respected. After they rescinded their support, two of the other packs followed immediately. The other three are now leery to say the least.” Levi shrugged defeatedly.

“Why would the other packs drop out? It’s just _Derek_. He can’t have that much impact,” Scott said.

“The Hale pack has been around for generations,” Levi explained. “Derek and his mate have defended their territory against impossible odds. They brought down an alpha pack. And that was before they'd reestablished the alliance with the other packs. There’s no question that Hale would’ve taken the lead on this. Without them, the other packs don’t want to take the risk.”

“The Ramsey pack hasn’t exactly made their plans a secret. When they finish with us, they’ll take on another pack. Don’t they realize their pack could be next?” Lizzy asked.

“Their packs aren’t as small and weak as ours,” Simon muttered.

Levi cuffed him upside the head, but they all knew he was right. George and Betty were old, and the rest of them were bitten. With such a small number of betas, even with Kira’s kitsune powers, they stood no chance against a vicious pack that was already thirty members strong. They’d be flattened by the Ramsey pack, and the alliance would band together without them when the next weak pack was attacked.

Joan broke the silence. “So, now that you know all the details, maybe Scott can tell us why the hell he didn’t mention that he’d pissed off the Hale pack.”

“I didn’t know,” Scott said. “I was bitten by Derek’s uncle, but I was never part of his pack. I left not long after that.”

“You can’t think of any reason they might hate so much they would leave us all to die?” Joan asked, bluntly.

Scott withered under her gaze. “I can see why Derek wouldn’t like me, and he’s always been a dick, but I didn’t think he’d leave me for dead. I didn’t even know he had a mate, never mind one that hates me. I cut all ties with Beacon Hills. I thought it was for the best.”

“We’ll just have to find an incentive good enough to convince the Hale pack to help us, regardless of their feelings for Scott,” George said, looking resigned.

“How the hell can we do that?” Simon said loudly.

Lizzy shushed him, but it was too late. Scott winced as Nadia’s cries drifted down from upstairs, and quickly turned to screams, the sound piercing to his werewolf hearing. He watched the rest of the pack recoil in the same way, and he wished more than ever that Maria had survived. No one in his pack was prepared to care for a small child. It was hard enough to stay alive without being distracted by a baby crying at all hours.

Lizzy hung her head for a moment, exhaustion weighing her down. “I’ll get her.” She trudged up the stairs, calling fruitlessly to the small child.

Joan stopped, looking up toward the cries. “That could be it.”

“What?” Simon prompted.

“Our incentive,” she said pointing to the ceiling.

Levi’s face changed, realization dawning on his expression. “Of course.”

“What the hell does the daughter of our dead pack mate have to do with the Hales?” Simon snarked.

“Most werewolves value young children, but her protection may not be enough to convince them,” Betty said, frowning.

“Hale and his mate have no children of their own. We have a child with no parents.” Joan gestured for them to make the connection.

“You want to give them Nadia?” Scott asked, shocked. “We can’t do that.”

“Are you gonna take her, Scott?” Joan said, hurling the words at him like knives. “We can’t expect Lizzy to look after her forever, she has her own life to live. None of us planned this, Scott, none of us expected Maria to be killed.”

Scott shrank in dismay. He wanted kids someday, but he was already working as many double shifts as he could to support Kira while she finished her residency. There was no way they would have the time and money to look after Nadia, even if they weren’t facing the Ramsey pack.

“But it’s _Derek_. We can’t give Nadia to him.” Scott looked to George beseechingly. George’s resigned expression did not bode well.

“The Hales are a good, stable pack with a strong hold on their territory. That’s more than we can provide for her, and it could make the difference in saving her life, as well as ours,” George said.

Levi laid a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Scott, but we all have our reasons for not being about to take Nadia. It would be different if Maria had family left somewhere but...This is the best we can hope for.”

“Why can’t Derek just go have his own kids?” Scott muttered.

Joan gave a sharp laugh. “You’re joking, right?” Scott just looked at her in confusion and she shook her head, heading for the stairs. “If you’ll all excuse me, this day has been a shitshow. I’m going to bed.”

“It’s late,” George said. “The rest of you should get some rest, too. I’ll give the Hales some time to cool off and call them in the morning. We’ll work it out.

***

It took a full week for George to convince the Hales to come meet Nadia. From what Scott had been told, they wanted her, but they were still reluctant to have anything to do with Scott.

He didn’t really understand. Derek had never liked Scott, not really, but he'd always shown up when Scott really needed him. He'd killed Allison’s mother to save Scott’s life. What had changed since then that Derek would be willing to let Scott’s whole pack die rather than help him?

Scott had avoided thinking of that night in the warehouse for as long as possible. He regretted how he'd treated Derek, but Gerard had been too big a threat. Derek had survived and Gerard was dead, so that was what mattered, wasn’t it?

So it must have to do with Derek’s mate. He must have done something to piss her off but he didn’t know what. He'd asked Joan if maybe Erica was Derek’s mate. She'd laughed so hard tears streamed down her face and she’d stumbled from the room. Scott wasn’t sure what was so funny, but he guessed it meant that Erica wasn’t Derek’s mate.

They waited for the Hale pack to arrive in much the same positions as they had before. Scott and Kira sat at the table, Kira still in her uniform from her shift at the hospital. George and Betty sat by the fire, Simon paced, Lizzy stayed on the stairs hoping the baby wouldn’t wake.

Levi and Joan had gone to meet Derek and his mate at the edge of the O’Hurley territory to escort them to the farmhouse. George said Derek would be bringing some betas with him but hadn’t said how many.

“Shouldn’t we be worried about an open invitation to bring an unspecified amount of betas into our territory?” Simon had been against the idea from the start. It was just like him to keep protesting, even when the Hales were minutes away. “They could bring their whole pack, take us out and be done with it.”

George gave Simon a disapproving, grandfatherly stare. “The Hales are a respectable pack, with more than enough territory of their own. They go to packs to help them, not hurt them. This is a civil meeting, not a hostile takeover.” 

Simon subsided with one last grumble. Scott crumpled the edges of the paper in front of him, then smoothed it out again. At George’s request, Scott had prepared a formal apology to the Hale pack. He'd been trying to memorize it, but he was nervous. He didn’t need Derek and his mate to forgive him, he just needed them to help his pack.

“It’ll be fine,” Kira said, rubbing his back.

They waited in silence another ten minutes before the sound of vehicles carried through the cool evening air.

Everyone stood as they listened to engines cut off, doors open and slam shut and voices drift through. Everyone sounded pleasant and relaxed, some spreading out around the house while others came straight to the door.

One voice carried over the rest, its patter quick and arrhythmic. The voice tickled something in Scott’s memory, but he couldn’t quite place it. He listened hard as the voice’s owner chattered with Joan while they neared the house.

Levi entered first, leading Derek’s pack. “Alpha Hale, may I introduce--”

“Stiles?” Scott burst out. “What are you doing here?”

Stiles’ face changed immediately, the pleasant smirk changing to a venomous glare. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I--I--” Scott stammered. He hadn’t seen Stiles since he'd left Beacon Hills. When Scott left with Allison and her father he'd cut all ties. He'd been so absorbed in her that he hadn’t realized how many bridges he was burning. He’d never expected to see Stiles again, but if he had, he wouldn’t have imagined being faced with such overwhelming anger.

“You what, Scott?” Stiles asked harshly.

Scott looked to his alpha, completely out of his depth. George spoke calmly, “Alpha Hale, Scott would like to apologize to you and your mate.”

“Would he now?” Stiles drawled. 

“Stiles,” Derek said. He reached out and Stiles tucked himself under Derek’s arm. They fit together immediately in the way people did when they'd been together for almost as long as they’d been apart. Like they knew exactly how they would fit and that they would be welcome. Stiles didn’t even look away from Scott as he moved. 

Derek nodded to George. “That’s fine, but I can’t guarantee my mate will accept.”

“Of course.” George gestured to Scott. “Go ahead. I’m sure the Hales are willing to listen.”

“But what about Derek’s mate?” Scott asked. He looked to the door and was confused to see that while Lydia Martin was with them, the rest of Derek’s pack had stayed outside.

“What about me?” Stiles said harshly.

Scott felt his jaw drop and stepped back in confusion. “Wait, you’re Derek’s mate?”

Stiles stared, shocked, before he rolled his eyes in a frustrated gesture that was achingly familiar. “Jesus Christ.”

“But Derek isn’t even gay.” Scott felt stupid as soon as he voiced the words. He barely knew Derek, what the heck did he know?

Stiles gaped at him, then turned to Derek, dismissing Scott. “Der, I can’t.”

Derek’s frown deepened. He didn’t say anything but his eyebrows moved.

“Ugh.” Apparently Derek’s expression meant something to Stiles, even if it was a mystery to Scott. “Fine, whatever. Get it over with.”

Scott nodded then floundered for how to continue. The words he'd prepared flew out of his head as he tried to process that his childhood best friend was the mate who hated him. Joan’s laughter made a lot more sense now.

Kira passed Scott his crumpled paper and smiled reassuringly. Scott gave her hand a grateful squeeze and looked down at the words, trying to make sense of them.

“You wrote it down?” Stiles asked, voice dripping with disapproval.

“Not all of us have a gift with words, Stiles,” Derek said. Stiles rolled his eyes again and pressed closer to Derek.

Scott took a deep breath to bolster his courage and started to recite the apology. He wasn’t sure exactly what he ended up saying, beyond something about being sorry about whatever he may have done to cause them distress.

When he finished he was met with silence. The words felt woefully inadequate as they hung in the air.

Betty cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should start discussing the main reasons for this meeting. Tea, anyone?”

Scott’s pack settled in for the discussion. George sat at the table with Lydia while Betty bustled into the kitchen. Lizzy remained on her perch on the stairs while Joan, Levi and Simon took the couch. 

Scott slunk into the corner of the living room, Kira close behind him. He'd failed his pack. He couldn’t even do something as simple as apologize properly.

He tried not to look at Derek and Stiles as they lingered at the door. They were facing each other now, holding hands. It looked like they were having a conversation but no words were being exchanged. After a moment, Stiles nodded and Derek led him to the kitchen table, then they sat down across from George.

Scott tried to listen as they discussed the terms of the Hale pack assisting them, as well as the adoption. Lydia had drawn up contracts for both subjects and went over them independently, acting as mediator between the packs. Scott mostly just heard If’s. If the Hales helped... If the Ramseys were defeated... If they adopted Nadia... 

He didn’t absorb much else because he was too caught up watching Derek and Stiles. They touched the entire time they talked. Fingers linked on the table. Derek’s hand on the back of Stiles’ neck while Stiles gestured emphatically. Stiles’ hand on Derek’s thigh while Derek calmly explained a point. 

The conversation came to an abrupt halt when Nadia started to cry. Lydia and Stiles looked at the wolves in confusion. “What’s happening?” Stiles asked.

“Baby’s awake,” Derek explained.

“Lizzy, do you think you could settle her, then bring her downstairs?” Betty asked.

Lizzy looked a little dismayed, but complied, ascending the stairs slowly.

Joan rose from the couch. “I’ll give her a hand.”

Lydia tried to continue discussing the contract but Derek and Stiles weren’t paying attention now. Derek watched the ceiling, head tilted as he listened to Nadia while Lizzy changed her and tried to calm her down. Stiles watched Derek.

Twenty minutes later, the baby was still crying and Lizzy had yet to bring her downstairs.

“What’s happening?” Stiles asked again.

Betty patted his hand gently. “I’m sure Lizzy just wants Nadia to make a good impression.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like Derek can’t already hear her cry. You said she’s what? Eight months old? Babies cry. It's kind of a thing.”

“She’s a werewolf baby. She’s calling for her mother,” Derek said softly.

Scott’s heart sank. He knew Nadia cried a lot more since Maria had been killed, but he didn’t really think about what that meant, beyond Nadia missing her. Derek was a born wolf though. Could he hear the howl in her cries?

“Welp. That was sufficiently depressing. Thanks, Der,” Stiles said, poking Derek in the ribs. “So can we meet her now or what?”

George nodded, and looked to Levi. He bounded up the stairs and came back a moment later with Joan. Lizzy followed behind them, navigating the stairs carefully as she held Nadia close.

Lizzy had put Nadia in a soft cotton dress, blue gingham with a ruffle on the edge and bows on the straps. She'd put another blue bow in her brown hair, so her baby curls were pushed away from her face.

She would have looked adorable if she wasn’t beet red from screaming at the top of her lungs. Derek didn’t seem to care. He looked at Nadia like a moonbeam had just entered the room. Precious and wonderful, but likely to disappear without warning. 

Stiles nudged Derek’s shoulder. “You gonna go hold her?”

Derek looked at him, stunned. He didn’t respond, he just stared at Stiles then looked back at the baby. 

Stiles pressed a smacking kiss onto Derek’s cheek and stood. He approached Lizzy with calm confidence Scott would have never imagined in high school. “Can I?” Stiles asked, reaching for Nadia.

Lizzy carefully transferred the baby into Stiles’ arms. Stiles placed Nadia on his hip with fluid ease. He bounced gently and murmured nonsense to her.

Nadia stopped crying and looked up at him in surprise. Her pudgy fingers poked at his upturned nose. Stiles chuckled and booped her nose in return. She blinked in surprise then settled onto his shoulder. Her face screwed up like she was thinking about starting to cry again but hadn’t decided.

Stiles kept the bounce in his step and rubbed Nadia’s back as he walked back to the table. He pressed himself along Derek’s side. “Ready?”

Derek looked torn between _Hell yeah_ , and _Absolutely not_. Stiles didn’t give him time to decide. He just plucked Nadia off his hip and lowered her onto Derek’s chest. Derek’s hand came up immediately to grab her.

Nadia started fussing again, perturbed by the change of person, or the lack of movement, or maybe the breeze. Scott didn’t really know what set the poor kid off at any given moment.

Derek looked between Stiles and the baby, eyes wide with panic. Stiles laughed at him and ran a hand over Nadia’s hair. “It’s okay, baby,” he said. Scott wasn’t sure if he was reassuring Derek or Nadia.

Nadia escalated to an ear splitting wail. Derek looked down at her and let his eyes flash alpha red. Nadia’s lit up yellow in response, and her cries died down to whimpers. Derek cradled her closer, then growled a low rumble deep in his chest.

Stiles smoothed Nadia’s curls again, then ran his fingers through Derek’s hair. They shared another look that spoke volumes that only they could hear, and Stiles gave a decisive nod. He returned to his seat at the table and looked to Lydia with eyes that blazed with so much determination that Scott was a bit terrified.

Negotiations continued while Derek held the baby, soothing her with rumbles and rocking. Stiles did most of the talking for them, with Lydia’s guidance.

Scott still wasn’t sure exactly what they decided. He did know that there weren’t many Ifs anymore. They'd changed to Whens. When the Hales helped... When the Ramsey pack were put in their place...When they adopted Nadia…

It had grown late when Lydia finally snapped her briefcase closed. Everything was signed and ready for filing. The Hales were contractually obligated to help the O’Hurley pack defend themselves against the Ramseys, and Nadia would be legally adopted by Derek and Stiles. 

“We’ll arrange for all the packs that are part of our alliance to meet and form a plan of action,” Lydia explained. “You two can say goodbye to the baby and meet us outside.” 

Derek glared at her and curled around Nadia protectively. “She’ll be safer with us.”

Stiles laid a hand on his arm. “Derek, we’re not ready to take her tonight. Let her pack have a chance to say goodbye while we prepare.”

“I could help,” Lizzy said. “We won’t need any of her things anymore, so you can take them. If you want, you could call or text me to figure out what she already has and what you’ll need.”

Derek still looked dubious, but Stiles nodded eagerly. “The adjustment will be easier for her if we can make her surroundings familiar. The scent of her old pack will help too, right?”

Derek nodded begrudgingly but didn’t give Nadia to Lizzy. 

Stiles sighed. “Lizzy, would you mind if Derek helped you put her to bed?” 

Lizzy looked at George for confirmation and at his approval, she smiled at Derek. “Come on up.”

Derek stood carefully and followed her upstairs. He glanced back at Stiles at one point, only to be shooed along.

“You wanna round up the others?” Stiles asked Lydia.

Lydia bid goodbye to Scott’s pack and sashayed out the door.

Silence fell over the group. The Stiles Scott remembered would have filled it quickly, spouting information whether people wanted to listen or not. This Stiles remained quiet, tapping his fingers on the table as he waited.

Instead, Simon was the one who broke it. “You really want a kid so bad you’ll risk your life to help us?”

Stiles shrugged. “We’ve faced worse than the Ramsey pack.”

“Then why didn’t you help us before?” Simon asked. Betty shushed him quickly, but Stiles just shrugged again.

“Before, you were Scott’s pack. I had no reason to trust you, and more than enough to think you could fuck us over.” Scott recoiled at the harsh words. Stiles used to be his best friend. How could he think Scott would hurt him? Stiles didn’t even spare him a glance before continuing. “Now, you’re going to be our daughter's former pack. She’s going to ask one day about where she came from. We’ll be able to look her in the eye when we say we did all we could to help you.”

Simon still looked a bit dubious, but he nodded in agreement. Scott thought that was the end of it, but Simon was never one let go while he was ahead. “So what does ‘all you could’ look like? How are you going to stop a pack that large?”

Stiles grinned. “With diplomacy, of course.” The predatory glint of his eye and cold calculation in his tone belied his words even as his heartbeat remained steady.

Scott felt a chill run down his spine and the unease was echoed on his pack’s faces. Fortunately, Derek returned just then, padding softly down the stairs. He was missing his shirt. He crossed his arms, took in the uncomfortable expressions of the pack, then looked at Stiles suspiciously.

“What?” Stiles asked, the picture of innocence. Derek just raised his eyebrows and Stiles gasped dramatically. “Why are you giving me that look? I was just sitting here.”  
Derek rolled his eyes and jerked his head toward the door.

“Umm, did you lose your shirt, dear?” Betty asked.

Scott could have sworn Derek blushed, but he couldn’t connect the action to the intimidating bad boy he’d met at sixteen. 

“I left it with Nadia,” Derek explained. “I thought it would be good for her to start getting used to our scent.”

Betty smiled serenely. “What a good idea. Would you like to borrow something of ours for the trip home?”

Derek shook his head and Stiles chuckled. “No worries. We have extra in the car.” They smiled at each other like they were sharing some joke Scott didn’t get.

Derek and Stiles exchanged pleasant goodbyes with the rest of the O’Hurley pack. Scott watched them disappear into the night and listened as the sound of their vehicles grew faint.

He hadn’t had Stiles’ friendship to count on for over a decade. He didn’t understand why he was left feeling so alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Scott stared up at his ceiling, mind whirling. He was exhausted but he couldn’t turn his brain off long enough to get to sleep.

“Scott?” Kira mumbled beside him. “Why are you still up?”

Scott made a halfhearted attempt at a smile to reassure her and she cuddled closer. His eyes returned to the ceiling. They sat in silence for a moment before he said, “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I stayed.”

“In Beacon Hills? Or with…” Kira asked quietly.

“Beacon Hills,” Scott said quickly. “I know that leaving Allison was the right decision. That’s the problem. Maybe I should never have gone with her in the first place.”

Kira hummed sadly.

“It’s just…” Scott growled in frustration, struggling to find his words. “Everything was so upside down, and it felt like she was the only thing that I could make sense of. I thought love was supposed to be desperate and dramatic and...and…”

“I know,” Kira said. Scott took a moment to appreciate that he could talk about this, talk about Allison, and Kira would always listen and understand that Scott truly loved her more.

“I thought we were the only thing that made sense, but that wasn’t true.” Scott sighed. “I was so sure when we left that we were meant to be together. She was going to help me find a cure and then everything would be perfect. Like being human again would fix everything.” It seemed so stupid now. To think that there was a cure when the only mention of one was a half remembered fable from Derek and a cryptic word from Deaton.

Scott squeezed his eyes closed to push the thought aside, and Kira rubbed circles over his shoulder. “In my head, we were Romeo and Juliet.” Scott chuckled sadly. “If I’d told Stiles that, he would’ve pointed out that that was a tragedy and a bunch of people died, including the star crossed lovers.”

Kira giggled. “Were you good friends? You and Stiles?”

“Like brothers,” Scott said, guilt roiling in his stomach. He'd thought of Stiles as his family and yet, somehow they'd grown so far apart that Scott barely knew the man Stiles had become, and Stiles detested Scott. “Maybe if I had stayed…”

“But you didn’t,” Kira said gently. “You can’t go back and change that.”

“I wonder what happened to him,” Scott said. “Everyone says they faced down an alpha pack. That the Hale pack is, like, crazy powerful. How did Derek freaking Hale become the most powerful alpha in California? How did Stiles become his mate?”

“Maybe you can ask them,” Kira said.

Scott frowned. Usually he shared Kira’s optimism. It was one of the things they had in common. But when he thought of the cold shoulder Stiles had given him today, he didn’t think the story would be forthcoming.

***

Scott leaned against the window of the Lawson pack’s dining room. George was seated in front of him with Levi at his side. Scott was still worried that George should have left him behind and brought Lizzy or Betty instead, but he wasn’t going to challenge the decision in front of other packs. 

Joan jostled their shoulders together in brisk reassurance, and Scott gave her a grateful smile. The room was filled with alphas and their most battle-ready betas. They were still waiting for two more packs and the dining room was already filled. Werewolves were overflowing into the open concept kitchen and living rooms nearby. 

The alphas all stood formally when Derek and Stiles entered. Lydia followed them to the table, while Erica and Boyd split off to the living room. 

Someone relinquished their chair at the table, but instead of taking the seat, Derek offered it to Lydia. He and Stiles went to the nearby kitchen island, Derek braced his back against it, since the stools were occupied and Stiles settled in front of him. 

They didn’t look Scott’s way and he felt strangely disappointed, as well as relieved. He didn’t want anyone to make a scene in front of so many packs, but it felt strange not to be greeted by Stiles before anyone else.

Stiles and Derek joked and laughed with the other packs as they waited, clearly familiar enough to have a good rapport. When the final pack arrived, they got down to business. They had maps of the O’Hurley territory spread over the table and everyone put forth ideas on the best course of action to handle the Ramseys.

Scott discovered that not only were Derek and Stiles well liked, they were well respected. When Derek spoke, everyone listened. When Stiles made a suggestion, it was taken into consideration immediately. Even without being in the physical center of the discussion, at the table, it was clear everyone looked to them for leadership and strength.

Scott tried to listen very carefully. But with Stiles and Derek interjecting so frequently, it was impossible not to look at them. Everytime he did, Scott was distracted by their position. Derek leaned against the counter and Stiles tucked in front of him. Stiles gestured and flailed as he spoke, but Derek kept his arms around Stiles’ waist and his chin hooked over his shoulder.

Scott wasn’t a prude. He'd gotten used to the tactile natures of werewolves long ago. He was totally cool with PDA. But he knew for a fact that in their current position, Derek’s dick was probably right against Stiles’ ass. It wasn’t like Stiles was particularly still either. He wiggled around as he talked and Scott was sure there was bound to be some friction.

No one else seemed to notice or care how close they stood, and Scott tried to ignore it too. It wasn’t like he _wanted_ to be thinking about Derek’s dick. Not in the slightest. Maybe if it were someone else, Scott wouldn’t even notice, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it was Stiles and Derek. Stiles Stilinski. And Derek Freaking Hale. 

It felt like watching his estranged brother cuddling with his annoying older cousin. 

The meeting came to a close and Scott only had a vague idea of what the plan was. He knew George would explain it to him later, but he felt guilty for not being able to focus enough on his own.

The packs filed out, thanking the Lawsons for their hospitality and offering George a last word of support. Scott and Joan were shuffled into the living room and he found himself next to Erica.

“Hey, Erica. How are you?” Scott said brightly.

Erica flicked her gaze over him, then flipped her hair over her shoulder in a clear dismissal. Boyd didn’t even acknowledge he was there.

They stood in awkward silence for a minute before Scott decided to try again. “Been awhile. It’s nice to see you.”

Erica looked back at him, narrowing her eyes.

“What have you been up to?” Scott asked cheerfully. “Still in Beacon Hills, huh? That must be...nice.” Scott tried not to wince as he trailed off.

“Oh, really?” Erica said.

“Yeah,” Scott said. He scrambled for something to say to keep the conversation going. “Hey, remember that time in third grade when Greenberg tried to stick himself to the ceiling with peanut butter? Good times, right?”

“Hey, Scott,” Erica said with false cheer. “Remember that time the kanima attacked us and I had a seizure, and instead of immediately rushing me to the hospital like Stiles told you to, you stopped to have a heart to heart with dear old Allison about how _it just didn’t feel right to leave her_? Good times, right?”

Scott froze. He hadn’t remembered, actually. Well, he did, of course he did, they'd nearly died. But he hadn’t really remembered Erica. When he thought of that day in the library, he remembered fear and worrying about Allison. Now that Erica had reminded him, he remembered her crying out in pain, remembered the sound of Stiles’ heart racing and the barely restrained panic in his voice. And he remembered having to take her to Derek so he could force her healing to kick in. He remembered her screams and Stiles’ stricken face.

“I… I…” He stammered.

“Wow, you guys really don’t fuck around, huh?” Joan said. Scott had forgotten she was standing next to him and he latched onto the familiar feeling of his pack in the here and now. Joan was looking at Erica with respect and approval, even as she placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder in comfort. Joan alway did enjoy meeting a feisty female such as herself. 

“Let’s go,” Derek called from the door. Erica and Boyd left Scott in the dust without a backward glance. He wished he could leave behind the memories they'd brought up just as easily. 

***

“Hey, Scott,” Lizzy said brightly.

He was barely in the front door, having just gotten home from his shift, and he could still smell the vomit from one of his earlier patients clinging to his scrubs. He didn’t mind being an orderly, really. Werewolf senses sometimes came in handy, but on days like this, he kinda wished he could turn down the sensitivity of his nose.

“Hey, Lizzy. What’s up?” Scott asked. He might have been been tired, but there was no need to take it out on her. She needed all the support she could get. As if the threat of the Ramsey pack hanging over their heads wasn’t enough, she was still taking charge of Nadia. When she wasn’t at her part time job or looking after the baby, she was on the phone with the Hale pack getting ready for the move.

Scott knew that Lizzy was reluctant to send the child away. She and Maria had been close, and she wanted what was best for Nadia. They all knew that was the Hale pack, but they couldn’t help feeling guilty that they couldn’t care for her themselves.

“So,” Lizzy said, taking a deep breath. “Everything’s arranged. Stiles and Derek are ready for Nadia, and George thinks she’ll be safer in their territory than she is here.”

Scott nodded. The fact that they expected this didn’t make it any easier. “When is she going?”

“Today,” Lizzy said. Scott’s breath whooshed out in surprise. He’d thought they would have a few more days at least. Lizzy gave him a shaky smile. “Everyone said goodbye to her this morning. She didn’t understand, obviously, but...Anyway, Joan was going to come with me so we could take all her furniture in one trip, but she got called into work.”

“Are you making two trips, then?” Scott asked. “Or are they coming here instead?”

“Actually, we were hoping you could help us out,” Lizzy said. Scott tried to protest, but she ploughed over him. “I already asked Stiles, and he wasn’t pleased, but he agreed. Please, Scott. I know you probably don’t want to, but I need to go settle her in. I need to see her new home and her room, and make sure she has the right things and they know all her favourite songs and--”

“Okay, Lizzy,” Scott said. “It’s okay, I get it. I’ll go.”

“Really?” She said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Of course,” Scott said, pulling her in for a hug. He wasn’t really opposed to seeing Stiles and Derek. It was more they were opposed to seeing him. He was nervous to be going back to Beacon Hills after so long, but if it meant things would be easier on Lizzy and Nadia, he could deal.

He showered quickly and helped Lizzy pack up his car. He felt a little guilty at being glad Nadia would be riding with Lizzy. He really did love her dearly, but she was still fussy and being stuck in a car with a screaming baby for hours wasn’t exactly a werewolf’s idea of a fun time. 

It didn’t take long for Scott to realize the address they'd been given was for the old Hale house. He did not, however, clue in that it must have been renovated. When the house loomed into view, Scott was completely taken by surprise that instead of a burned out husk, the place was fully intact and beautifully restored. 

The outer walls were no longer faded and grey, but clean white, and the front door had been painted a cheerful turquoise. There were flowerbeds under the windows and a swing on the porch.

He pulled up close to the front door, and turned off the engine. Instead of getting out, he stared, stunned, at the structure in front of him. Looking at it now, no one would never know that people had died here, including the alpha Scott had watched Stiles light on fire.

He broke from his stupor as Lizzy climbed out of her car. She'd pulled up next to him, and he was pleasantly surprised to see Stiles’ ancient jeep among the other cars.

The front door opened and Stiles spilled out, already talking a mile a minute. “How was the trip? Did you find it okay? Have you eaten? I made chili. Here, let me take her for you.” Lizzy stepped back so he could take Nadia out of her car seat and swing her onto his hip.

“The ride was fine. Scott knew the way,” Lizzy said cheerfully. Stiles’ huff of irritation was barely noticeable, but Scott heard it none the less.

“Do you want to eat first or get the stuff out?” Stiles asked.

Lizzy shrugged. “I’m not really hungry yet, but it’s up to you.”

Stiles looked over to Derek, who was leaning against the door frame. Derek smirked. “We can get things set up first, Stiles. I know you want to.”

Stiles grinned and grabbed a bag from Lizzy’s car to carry in. “I can’t wait for you to see her room. The colour is great and the window is perfect.” While everyone grabbed things from the car, he chattered to Lizzy about their preparations.

With three werewolves involved, it didn’t take long to get everything upstairs. Derek wouldn’t let Stiles carry anything too heavy, so Stiles mostly supervised while cuddling Nadia. 

The room was just as wonderful as Stiles had said, with soft blue walls and clouds painted on the ceiling. They'd found a beautiful wallpaper border that depicted delicately painted woodland creatures and pretty butterflies. The large window seat already had cushions in place, perfect for curling up in.

Lizzy was clearly thrilled by how much work they'd already put into the space, but she fussed with the toy bin and the blankets in the crib. She explained to Stiles and Derek which toys were Nadia’s favourites and how she prefered naps with one but nights with another. There were so many little details that Scott would never have thought of and figured they could find out on their own. Derek and Stiles listened avidly, and when the room was put together, they suggested everyone head down to the kitchen to eat. 

The house was just as massive as Scott remembered, intimidatingly so. He was relieved that they’d decided against the formal dining room in favour of a sunny kitchen nook. Derek held Nadia while he ate, tickling her toes and cuddling her as he listened to Stiles and Lizzy talk. Lizzy started running out of things to tell them, and was grasping for anything she missed.

Scott felt a bit useless and very out of place in the whole exchange. He brightened when he remembered something he could share. “Her name means hope.”

Lizzy’s eyes welled up and he thought maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it. “Oh, of course. Maria would’ve wanted you to know that. She said Nadia was our hope for the future.” She shook her head and straightened up. “Of course she’s yours now, so you can change it to anything you want.”

Derek shook his head. “Nadia is good.”

“She can be our hope,” Stiles said. Nadia threw the stuffed bunny they were playing with at him. Stiles grinned and grabbed it, then made it hop over to Nadia and tickle her with it's nose. She squealed and laughed, grabbing the bunny from him.

“You guys are pretty good with kids,” Scott ventured. “How come you didn’t adopt before?”

Stiles’ scent spiked with anger and sadness and he stared hard at Scott. “Between my anxiety disorder and Derek’s history of arrests, we aren’t exactly high on most adoption lists. Being gay tends to limit things too, even in California.”

He grabbed the bowls off the table and stalked over to the sink. Scott cringed and inwardly berated himself. He should have known it was complicated and kept his mouth shut. 

Unease rolled off of Lizzy, and Scott was worried he'd messed everything up for her. Derek reached out and gave her an awkward but reassuring pat. “Do you want to see our backyard? Stiles found a baby swing that looks like an airplane.”

Lizzy agreed enthusiastically, and Scott followed them out the back door. Derek must have seen him eyeing up the trampoline and jungle gym. “Some of our betas have children. They don’t live here, but they come over a lot. Also, Stiles sometimes thinks better upside-down.” He gestured to the wooden monkey bars, and Scott smiled at the memory of (literally) hanging around the playground with Stiles.

They lingered in the backyard as long as possible. Stiles came out to watch them, but he didn’t engage with Scott at all. When they finally stood up to leave, Lizzy gave Nadia a tearful goodbye, hugging her close before returning her to Derek.

Stiles gave her a brisk pat on the back. “I hope you’ll be able to visit soon,” he said. “I’m sure you're busy, but we want to make this transition as easy for her as possible. I’ve done a lot of reading and I think it would be good for her to see you.”

“I’ll ask George,” she said hopefully. “I’m sure we can work something out.” 

They said goodbye and Stiles and Derek waved from the door. Lizzy made it to the edge of the preserve before she had to pull over. Scott got out of his car and held his packmate while she cried.


	4. Chapter 4

The packs assembled their best fighters in the O’Hurley barn. The Hale pack had brought Derek’s three original betas, as well as two who Scott didn’t recognize. Lydia helped Stiles with mixing ingredients and painting a complex rune on each of the werewolves. Scott wasn’t sure what the rune did, and he was too scared to ask, but he knew it was necessary. 

Lydia finished painting Scott’s on, then Stiles had to come over and activate it.

“Where’s Nadia tonight?” Scott asked, attempting to make friendly conversation.

Stiles shrugged. “Oh, you know. We got Peter to babysit.”

“What?” Scott sputtered. “Really?”

Stiles gave him a withering look. “Of course not, Scott.”

“Peter was a good babysitter,” Derek said behind Stiles.

“I’m sure he was, babe.” Stiles smirked. “If we wanted her reciting the ingredients to make an atomic bomb, I’ll call him up.”

“It was major arteries and how to sever them effectively, actually,” Derek said, and sauntered off.

Stiles smiled after him.

“He seems different,” Scott said. “Less…”

“Consumed by grief over the death of his last remaining family member?” Stiles said. “How the hell would you know what he was like, Scott? You were never there.”

“And you were?” Scott sputtered. “Stiles, you were the one who thought he killed his sister. When I was in Beacon Hills, all we knew about Derek was that he was a pushy werewolf with psychotic family members. How did you go from that to his mate? What is your problem? What the hell happened to you, Stiles?” 

“What happened to me?” Stiles hissed, and Scott stepped back as Stiles advanced on him. “Let’s start at the beginning shall we? My best friend turned into a werewolf, then tried to kill me. I got kidnapped by Peter, who I’d just seen maul Lydia, and who threatened to bite me. My best friend didn’t notice I was gone, because he was too busy trying to get into the pants of some girl he'd just met. I got chased into a pool by a giant lizard, and had to hold up a two hundred pound person, who was paralyzed from the neck down. I dropped him, to call for help, and that best friend of mine? He hung up on me. Shall I go on?”

“I didn’t mean to-- I didn’t realize--” Scott stammered, but he couldn’t think, he just couldn’t _think._

“You know, I could have gotten past those. I would have forgiven you for all of them, because you were my best friend. You were my brother, Scott.” Stiles was visibly shaking with anger. “But then you left. You just left me, Scott.”

“That’s enough, Stiles,” Derek said. His voice was quiet, but it sounded loud as a gunshot to Scott and he realized the whole room was staring at them in silence. “That’s enough, babe, come on.” 

Stiles let Derek pull him away, curling toward him like Derek was the solution to all the pain and frustration Scott finally understood. Scott stood paralyzed. He’d been so absorbed with his own life, and his own problems, he hadn’t even noticed how much he’d let Stiles down. So wrapped up in the whirlwind of Allison that he hadn’t even realized what he was losing until he was too far away.

***

Scott stood ten feet away from Stiles in the middle of the woods, completely wolfed out. Members of his own pack, and those helping them were scattered around the clearing. 

The Ramsey pack had over 30 members, and they were all standing with their claws at the ready. Derek, George and Alpha Lawson were in the middle of the clearing, attempting to negotiate with the alpha, Patrick Ramsey. So far, it had been a lot of threats and posturing from Patrick, while the other three held firm.

It didn’t take long for all hell to break loose.

Patrick gave his pack the signal, and they attacked immediately. While Scott’s side was stronger in numbers, the Ramseys more than made up for it by being vicious and bloodthirsty. 

He watched helplessly as Lizzy was flung across the clearing, the sound of her spine cracking as it hit a tree snapped through the air among snarls and screams. Scott wanted to run to her, but he had a job to do: Under no circumstances could any members of the enemy pack be allowed near Stiles.

He scratched and clawed at whoever came near him, working with the other werewolves to keep the circle around Stiles closed. He missed whatever signal Stiles had been waiting for, but not the result.

Stiles clapped his hands together, and his eyes glowed red. The hair on Scott’s neck pricked as power filled the atmosphere. The fighting ground to a halt as Derek howled, and alpha red light shot from Stiles’ chest, straight to Derek. It swirled around them, then rose up, like the northern lights had become an omen of death.

The lights snapped together into a sphere, then unfurled in the shape of a massive wolf, towering over the clearing. Werewolves began to whimper and cower as Derek’s eyes glowed blue, and the eerie figure coiled to spring.

“Stand down,” Derek said, voice echoing like it was joined by dozens.

Some of the Ramsey pack surrendered, stumbling to the ground and showing their necks in submission. 

Far too many, unfortunately, did not. Alpha Ramsey snarled, lunging toward Derek. As Derek surged to meet his momentum, the red wolf swept forward, ghosting through Patrick. He screamed as his beta form ripped away, forcing him back to human shape, and his eyes flared red then faded to a dull brown. 

The red wolf continued, twining through the clearing, collecting power and leaving pain in it's wake. Those who had laid down in submission were left untouched, as were the werewolves defending Scott’s pack. The runes Stiles had drawn glowed blue before the wolf moved on. Fighters began to succumb to their injuries. Gaping wounds that were easy enough for a werewolf to heal became deadly when the power of the bite was stripped away. 

A beta ran for Stiles, claws drawn, but the spectre was on the other side of the clearing. The beta darted past Isaac and bore down, and Scott charged, tackling the wolf and pushing him down. They rolled over the ground, a blur of swipes and snarls, until Scott managed to lever under him and kick him off. 

The red wolf slashed through the beta, and he was dead before he hit the ground.

The figure coiled, waiting patiently for its next opponent, but they were all dead, injured, or being captured easily without the supernatural skills they were accustomed to.

“Thank you, Alpha Hale,” Stiles said quietly. The wolf dipped its head, brushed against him, then jolted back into Derek, like lightning straight to his heart. Derek’s eyes bled red again, and the returned power brought him to his knees.

Stiles staggered forward, and Isaac helped pull him over to Derek so he could drop down at his side. They curled up together, panting from the exertion.

Scott looked away from the tears tracking down Stiles’ pale face. He looked over the dead bodies and werewolves, newly turned human, and he curled into himself, grief overtaking him.

All those years ago, he'd left Beacon Hills searching for a cure. Of course, the cure was there. Of course, it was with Stiles, who’d taught him how to be a werewolf in the first place. 

Kira knelt down, rubbing her hand over his side. “Maybe George could ask Stiles to do it.” 

Scott smiled. He wasn’t at all surprised that Kira knew exactly what Stiles’ display meant for him. He was struck by a strange realization. “I don’t want it,” he said. He took her hand and his gaze sought out the members of his motley little pack. “I don’t need to be cured. The bite is a gift, and it’s given me everything I need.”

Kira hugged him close, and they sat together, just like Derek and Stiles, as the evidence of carnage lingered around them.

***

The next morning, Scott trudged up the slope on the west side of the O’Hurley pack’s territory. His healing had already taken care of any physical effects of last night, but mentally, he still felt creaky and wounded.

He carried a bunch of daisies. They weren’t the most elaborate flowers, but Maria had always appreciated simple things, simple gestures.

Maria’s actual grave was at a local cemetery, but the pack hadn’t visited it often in the months since she'd been killed. When their grief was too much and they needed to feel close to her, they came to her favourite spot. She'd always loved the grassy hilltop where the pack’s farm met the small woods. She said it felt like a safe place. A happy one. 

Simon had placed a large stone at the spot and carved “Safe” on it's smooth surface, as both a tribute and a wish. Scott brought flowers as often as he could. He’d been meaning to plant something for her, but he hadn’t gotten around to it. 

When he finally neared the crest of the hill, he was surprised to see someone already kneeling by the stone. Stiles’ profile was drawn in concentration. He had a pile of flowers next to him, and his hands glowed faintly as he threaded them together methodically. 

“Don’t break his focus.” 

Scott’s head snapped up to look back at Derek. It had been awhile since someone had managed to sneak up on him, but Derek had always been a better werewolf than Scott was.

Scott took an involuntary step back. “What is he doing?” 

Derek watched Stiles silently for a moment before he replied, “His hands are weaving a wreath, his soul is weaving something else. It’s never really clear until he’s finished.”

Scott nodded like that made sense. It did, in a way, like how artists would say they didn’t know what the piece would look like until they finished it. But Scott wasn’t an artist, and he’d never imagined Stiles’ being capable of magic at all, let alone the grand feat he saw yesterday. “Why is he doing it here?” He asked, trying to convey that he was only curious, not against it. 

Derek was silent again, but this time he frowned. “His spell killed over a dozen people yesterday. That kind of darkness leaves a stain. He likes to balance things out. Leave something good in place of the destruction.” 

Scott gestured to the daisies he held. “I can understand that,” he said with a tentative smile. 

Derek didn’t return it but he didn’t reject Scott’s overture either. They watched together quietly, until Scott asked, “What was that spell anyway? How did he do that?”

Derek sighed. “Well...Honestly, I don’t know. Every other magic user we’ve spoken to thinks it should be impossible, but Stiles has a unique style. He knows the goal, but he isn’t picky about the action used to get there. Rather than specific ingredients and rituals, he takes inspiration from ideas and intention, and sees where they take him.This spell came from two main concepts.” 

Derek sat on the grass, leaning on his side so he could still see Stiles without falling down the hill. Scott sat next to him, and asked, “What are they?”

“The first is the generations of the Hale pack,” Derek explained. “The alpha power has passed through my family for centuries. When I became alpha, I found it hard at first to settle into. Every time my eyes flashed, and the alpha command came into my voice, I expected to see Laura appear at my side, or my mother. Even my grandmother, though I was only two when she died. I kept feeling like I was a beta, and the power just wasn’t mine.”

Scott nodded in understanding. He might not have been an alpha, but he’d felt like a separate entity from his wolf for years, especially near the full moon. Like his actions and thoughts couldn’t possibly be coming from him. Now that he’s learned control and established an anchor in his pack, instead of one person, he doesn’t feel like such an aggressive asshole when the moon approaches its peak. 

“So, Stiles thought maybe, in a way it wasn’t mine. Not really, not yet. I’ve settled into it now. It’s a part of me, but Stiles is able to borrow that part temporarily, call on my family, my old alphas, and use it.”

“Your eyes were blue,” Scott said. “So you were temporarily a beta again? Until he put it back.”

“That’s right,” Derek confirmed. 

“What about the second part?”

Derek’s nose twitched a bit, while he composed his thoughts. “Do you remember when I told you the bite was a gift?”

Scott deflated a bit. He did remember that, and he remembered how he'd thrown it back in Derek’s face. Rejected what Derek had probably been told his whole life. And how Derek had persisted, agreeing to help him even so. “I remember.”

“Stiles took that a bit more literally. The way he sees it, if a gift can be given, it can also be taken away. So, if someone doesn’t deserve their gift…”

“He takes it,” Scott finished.

Derek nodded. “Of course, it’s not that simple. He can take it from people who treated it with respect just as easily as those who don’t. That’s what the runes were for. Keeping the werewolves on our side as just that. Wolves.”

“Impressive,” Scott said. “Did Deaton help him with it?”

Derek snorted. Scott looked at him quizzically and he shook his head. “They don’t really get along very well.”

“Why not?”

Derek shrugged. “A few reasons. Stiles’ brand of magic is very different from Deaton’s. Like I said, Stiles is about intention, vague on details, open to possibilities. Deaton was much more rigid. To him, you’re supposed to pick a particular spell with certain ingredients to achieve an exact result. If it isn’t in the books, it shouldn’t happen. Also, Deaton only wanted to share the information _he_ thought Stiles should know. Stiles just wanted to know everything, and he resented Deaton trying to take the choice away from him.”

Scott looked down the hill solemnly. Deaton had never been one for sharing the whole picture when a glimpse would do. 

“There were some other things, I think what really put a wedge between them was…” Derek stopped himself.

“What?” Scott prompted.

“You.” Derek said simply. “Stiles found out Deaton had encouraged you to leave and he was furious. He stopped even trying to trust him, kept working up his skills on his own. I guess Deaton couldn’t trust us either. He closed his practice and moved away a few years ago.”

They sat together silently while Scott absorbed the information. He thought about how Stiles would have hated Deaton taking his choices away, and guilt settled in his stomach. “Derek, I want to apologize to you.”

Derek looked over and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“When we first met, I was angry and confused and I took it out on you,” Scott explained. “It wasn’t fair for me to use you against Gerard.”

Derek stared at him, considering, and Scott wondered if he was listening for a lie. Derek finally nodded. “Thank you for that. I don’t agree with what you did, but I do understand.”

Scott smiled at him, and the weight of guilt lifted a bit.

“Hey!”

Scott looked over to Stiles and jumped up in surprise. Instead of bare grass, with Maria’s stone, Stiles stood at the entrance of a dome covered with greenery. The flowers he'd been weaving together twined with trees and vines. Nature, in a completely unnatural shape.

“Wanna come in my kick ass fort?” Stiles called. 

“Sure,” Derek said. He boosted himself off the ground and sauntered toward him. Scott trailed after him, awed by the structure.

Derek approached the entrance and Stiles stuck out his arm to bar the way inside. Derek could have easily forced his way past but he only smirked as Stiles asked, “What’s the password?”

Derek tapped his foot, hands on his hips while he considered. “Hmm. How about, I love you?”

Stiles smiled. “Not what I had in mind, but good enough.” He moved back to let Derek in. Scott stood indecisive until Stiles popped back out. “Password?”

Scott tugged his ear nervously. “Batman?” It was the password Stiles always choose as a child.

“Damn, that’s actually it,” Stiles grumbled. Derek snorted behind him and Stiles abandoned the doorway.

Scott stepped in after him. He was pleased to find that Maria’s stone was still there, right in the center of the canopy. There was a hole at the top of the structure and the sun beat down on it, warming the stone under Scott’s hand. He sat down next to it, smiling. 

“So, what is it?” Derek asked. He was stretched out on his back, looking up at the foliage, with Stiles settled against his side.

“Why does it have to be _something?_ ” Stiles said, testily. “Can’t it just be pretty?”

“It could, but you made it, so it isn’t,” Derek volleyed. “Don’t be contrary. What is your pretty dome for?”

Stiles sighed. “Did you read the stone?” Derek nodded. “It was there when I got here, so I guess I took inspiration. It’s a safe haven. If someone is in danger, hurt or being pursued or something, they can come in here and it will keep them safe. Whatever’s after them can’t follow them, and if they’re the person that did wrong, they can’t enter.”

Derek hummed in approval.

“Maria would have liked that,” Scott said, running his hand carefully over the engraving.

Stiles lifted his head from Derek’s chest to look at him questioningly.

“That’s who the stone was for,” Scott explained. “Nadia’s mom, Maria. This was her favourite spot.”

Stiles tensed. “You think she’d….Is it okay I put this here?”

“Yeah, dude,” Scott said. “I was meaning to grow something for her. This is way better.”

“Good.” Stiles deflated, head thumping back onto Derek. “That’s good.”

They sat together quietly, surrounded by soft green light and the smell of flowers. A gentle breeze rustled through, making the new leaves sing. Scott thought he could feel the safety woven into their branches.

“Thank you for helping my pack,” Scott said softly.

“You’re welcome,” Stiles said. He sounded tired, but honest. Less bitter than he was before.

Scott bit his cheek, then decided to take a chance. “I’m sorry I left you behind.”

Stiles stared up at him, unblinking. Scott squirmed in the silence.

“I can’t take back the decision I made to leave, and I’m not really sure I would. But I wish I hadn’t let our friendship go.”

Stiles frowned, then nodded. “Thanks.”

Scott circled his fingers in the grass. “Do you think you could ever--”

“Don’t ask me to forgive you. Not right now,” Stiles said quickly. “I’ve been angry about this for a long time, it’s not going to disappear in a heartbeat.” He sighed and twined his fingers with Derek’s. “When you left, it hurt too much. It was easier to be angry than sad. I used that anger to get me through one of the hardest times in my life. My anger is a weapon and if I let it go, I have to find a new way to defend myself.”

 

Scott nodded. He knew how long Stiles could hold a grudge. He was two sides of a coin. Heads--when he saw something worthwhile in someone, he was loyal to a fault, and firmly planted in his affection. Like he was with Lydia. Like he was with Scott. Tails-- if he didn’t like you, or you pissed him off, he would never really forget, and he would treat you with all the loathing and disdain he could muster. 

They sat quietly again, Scott watching as Stiles and Derek had another one of those weird silent couple conversations that mostly involved Derek’s eyebrows and Stiles huffs.

“You should come visit,” Stiles said suddenly. “See the baby and...you know, stuff.”

“Really?” Scott asked, hope blossoming.

“Sure,” Stiles smirked. “We’ll need as many babysitters as we can get.”

Derek pinched his ribs and Stiles cackled. He rolled off Derek. “Alright, big guy, take me home. I’m exhausted.”

Derek rolled up onto his feet. He reached down for Stiles but instead of pulling him to his feet, he hauled him up over his shoulder.

“Derek!” Stiles shrieked. “This is not what I meant! You are not a caveman, put me down.”

“Derek, we are too old for this shit!” Stiles shouted. “You’re gonna drop me.”

To prove him wrong, Derek spun in a circle on his way down the hill. Stiles laughed as he cursed him.

Scott smiled after them, thinking of Nadia, as hope unfurled within him.

***

_Epilogue_

Stiles kneeled in front of the flowerbed, methodically pulling weeds. He was wearing the wide-brimmed hat he’d gotten for father's day. He hated it, but it was adorably ugly, and Derek fussed when he got a sunburn. Knowing his family had given it to him made him resent it a little bit less.

“He’s coming,” Nadia shouted, racing out of the house.

“Stay on the porch,” Stiles cautioned. He didn’t care if his baby girl was a werewolf, he still didn’t want her to get hit by a car.

“You’re not on the porch,” Nadia pointed out. Stiles didn’t know how a five year old could get to be so damn sassy. He brushed off his hands and joined his daughter on the porch, sitting on the top step. She wasn’t great at judging distance yet, so the car could still be a ways off. He might be able to sneak a snuggle while they waited.

Nadia clamoured onto his lap and fidgeted with excitement.. Her eyes sparkled as they darted around the trees, like if she looked the right way she could see them coming. When the car finally came into view, she jumped to her feet, waving frantically as the car pulled into park. Stiles resisted the urge to remind her to stay on the porch. She waited until the engine was off and the door was opened, just like they’d taught her, then raced across the lawn. “Scott! Scott! Did you miss me?”

Scott caught her before she could collide with the car and swept her up into a hug. “I sure did. No one’s played Legos with me in weeks!”

“I can play with you!” Nadia wriggled to the ground and shot into the house. 

“Hey,” Scott said, walking over to sit down next to Stiles.

“Hey,” Stiles returned. He knocked their shoulders together. 

“Missed you,” Scott said.

Stiles scoffed. “It’s only been two weeks, you didn’t have time to miss me.”

“Sure I did,” Scott said easily. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles said, nudging Scott with his elbow. “You really just missed my cookies.”

Scott grinned. “Well, now that you mention it…”

Stiles gasped dramatically and shoved Scott off the step as he laughed. “I didn’t have time to make more, but I pulled some dough out of the freezer. You and Nadia can roll it out if you want.”

“Awesome,” Scott said. He stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants before offering Stiles a hand.

Stiles put a hand on Scott’s arm before he went into the house. “I missed you, too.”


End file.
